Tag Archives: Humour

Gis a fag

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It’s over six years since I stopped smoking. I was always a light smoker and had times where I didn’t smoke at all but I finally completely quit the habit when I met someone who didn’t smoke.  I must confess that for a good while after that, if I was out and had been drinking, I did sometimes beg a friend for a drag on their fag and I may even have had the occasional one all to myself but those times were few and far between and I eventually stopped even that.  So, I count myself as stopping from the point I decided to stop, with a few little blips after that time.  It’s been years since I had a drag on a cigarette and I have no desire at all to do so now.

Very rarely I get a weird fleeting memory of Player’s No.6 cigarettes.  The smell and the taste come back to me and I think it was because these were the first cigarettes I smoked, way back, as a schoolgirl on the train on the way to school.  Because then, you could smoke just about anywhere.

Thinking tonight about my lack of desire to smoke I wondered if the fact that it is less ‘in your face’ now has helped me. Well, I am sure it has, the cues and triggers aren’t there now.  The temptation has gone.  Which led me on to thinking about how going to the pub or a club is so much easier now there are no smokers puffing seductively on their fags and wafting their delicious scent around.  You have to actively seek the ‘pushers’ out now.  It’s much, much easier not to smoke.

This train of thought took me further.  It is acknowledged that there is a big problem in the UK with alcohol consumption.  We have a very high rate of liver disease in young adults and we know about all the other harmful effects of problem drinking.

So, I thought, what about if we made pubs ALCOHOL FREE, in much the same way as we have banned smoking?  Drinkers would have to go outside to a designated area for a pint or a voddie and coke.  They could stand with the smokers.  It would certainly make me think twice about drinking.

Do you think I’m on to something?

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Flossie Cheeks Will Rule The World!!!

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Well, it’s been a couple of weeks now and I’ve only just got round to writing about my amazing experience.  That’s very bad of me but, anyway, here it is now – so read on…..

Sometime last year, October I think, someone I knew from burlesque classes told me she was organising a burlesque evening to raise money for the local stroke unit.  She had had a stroke herself ten years ago, at the very young age of 24 and she wanted to give back something to the people and the unit that had been so good to her.  I didn’t know Anna that well at that time, I had helped out with lifts sometimes to and from class but that was about it but I wanted to help her.  It sounded like a colossal feat she was trying to pull off, with no experience of putting anything like this on before.  Neither had I but I wanted to help so I offered.  I thought maybe she would need help with phone calls, or fundraising or on the night, I don’t know really.  What I was not expecting was for her to ask me to perform a dance with her on the night!!!

And so began the adventure…..

Anna had a brilliant idea for a routine that involved her being in a wheelchair and being persuaded to get up and dance by her nurse, a sort of ‘healing’ process if you will.  I was to be the naughty nurse.  Yup, I thought. I can do that. He he.

Together we planned the costumes – Anna making the dresses with the help of a dressmaker friend (on account of her only having the use of one arm!) and me sewing all the fiddly bits on and making our bras and the rest of it.  I had to learn how to insert foam cups inside the dresses to keep them up, I made a nurses apron and covered our bras in sparkle and satin.  I sewed glittery things and I attached tassels to knickers.  It was great!  It felt like all my evenings were spent either sewing or practising our dance.

We choreographed the dance ourselves and had such a laugh along the way, coming up with ideas and rehearsing hard.  We booked  a studio and we filmed ourselves dancing.  We texted constantly, we watched clips of burlesque performers on YouTube.

As time went on it got more stressful for Anna who was negotiating with people, organising the event, from liaising with the venue and compere, sorting out the sounds, finding someone to do the table decorations, getting raffle prizes, selling tickets and generally being thrown in at the deep end.  Harder for her than some with the added problems her stroke had left her with.  Me, I just kept sewing and making Anna laugh.  That seemed to be my job, not a bad one I thought.

And then it was the evening of the event.  We had everything planned to the last detail.  Anna wanted it to be a surprise.  The rest of the evening was full of professional acts, all amazing and gorgeous or funny and quirky but all professional. Anna and I were to come on right at the end with an introduction from Sadie, the compere.  Nobody was to know, except a few who needed to be in on it.

And so we did it.

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We performed to 200 people.

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And it was AMAZING.  The support from everyone was fantastic, and we felt like stars.  I don’t think either of us were under any illusions that we were Dita but that was never the plan.  We were two amateurs, with various physical limitations between us, performing a comedy burlesque routine and we pulled it off!

Along the way, I learned to make costumes and that it isn’t so easy to make something that can be whipped off just at the right moment, particularly when one of you only has the use of one arm, I learned to put into practice all the tips and skills i have found out from the various classes and workshops I’ve attended as part of the Burlesque Jems, and I found out a bit about putting on an event.  Most of all though….I found a new friend.  Anna and I hit it off from day one and we had such fun and so many laughs doing this.  I don’t suppose we would have become such friends if it wasn’t for this and it really was one of the best parts of it all for me.  Anna is an inspiration.  She is strong and determined and she doesn’t let her disabilities hold her back. Those of you who know me, know I have a positive attitude to life and Anna is one of those people too.

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Obviously, we want to do it all again now so…..

WATCH THIS SPACE!!!

And for those of you who haven’t seen us, here is the link:

 

 

It’s enough to turn your hair grey!!!

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I have grey hair.  Well, some of it.  It’s been at that awkward ‘salt and pepper’ stage for years.  I only know this because I decided to grow out my colour a while ago in the vague hope that it would suit me to be grey.  To my dismay, it was just a mish-mash of grey and brown in very uneven patches and it looked ridiculous so I went back to dying it.

I dye it myself and I use two colours.  A pinky purple sort of colour for the fringe and black for the rest of it.  I do it myself because it needs doing quite frequently, due to the stupid grey, and it would cost a fortune at the hairdressers.  I’m not too bad at doing it now, I usually do it in two stages and it looks ok.

However, I HATE doing it (that was the main reason for growing it out last year) and it is always a messy business, even though I try very hard not to let it splash…..

So, I was thrilled to discover that the product I use now comes as a ‘non drip foam’.  It is advertised as very easy to use and sounded like the answer for me.

Non drip???  Non drip my arse!!!  It’s EVERYWHERE!!!  I have a permanently dyed black fingernail (despite wearing the gloves!), black ears and shoulders, one black boob and a big  black blob on one foot.  I have tried to wipe every spot I found in the bathroom but I am dreading going back up there in half an hour.  I’m bound to have missed a bit.

And I still have the pink to do…..

My bathroom will look like a Jackson Pollock painting by the time I’ve finished!!!

 

Traffic Jam Survival tips

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Yesterday I had the unfortunate luck to be stuck on the M25 for the best part of four hours because they had closed the road ahead due to an accident.  At first, not knowing how long I would be there, I sat back and relaxed, listened to my radio and sent an update to Facebook from my Blackberry.  Thank goodness for smart phones, I thought.

I enjoyed the music that was on the radio and, after a little while of sitting still, I decided to practise my dance moves.  Obviously, it wasn’t possible to do the full routine, not in the car, but I did spend a happy ten minutes shimmying my shoulders and boobs along to the music.  I got some looks but I didn’t mind as I was sure we’d all be on the move again soon.

Two hours later we had hardly moved and I had the same ‘neighbours’ as I had when I was shimmying.  I was tempted to have a go at nipple tassel twirling but a)I haven’t done that class yet and b) I didn’t have any nipple tassels.  So I abandoned that idea.

I started to get bored.  My lunch was in the boot.  I didn’t want to get out of the car and walk round to get it as the traffic kept moving a bit, in between standing still.  I ached from sitting down.  I ran out of things to post to Facebook.   I needed a cup of tea.  I needed a wee. I saw men getting out of their cars and going to the side of the road to relieve themselves.  That didn’t help my mood, although I did think of getting out myself as time went by.  I managed to hang on though.  I knew those pelvic floor exercises would come in handy one day.

It struck me that I should put together a ‘motorway survival kit’, specially for times like this.

Alongside the torch, blanket, spade and bottle of water you should have with you at all times, I decided that I should assemble a special little kit just for those times when I am stuck on the motorway, bored shitless with nobody to talk to.  It wouldn’t be so bad if I had company. I was stuck once before on the same road with a male colleague and we played Strip Eye-Spy to pass the time. That was fun…. (luckily we started moving before I had even got to my cardigan).

Anyway, in my kit I thought I would pack:

Tweezers. Not just for tidying the eyebrows.  There are always facial whiskers to remove. It is my main hobby in life these days.

Nail varnish.  May as well paint my nails while I’m waiting.  I never seem to have time for them to dry normally.  Sat in the car, there isn’t a lot else to do….in fact, a whole manicure kit, why not?  Cuticle oil, file, false nails…yes, that would pass the time nicely.

My personal lap top.  Could have written this blog whilst waiting in the traffic, couldn’t I?

Chocolate.  Obviously.

Embroidery, needlework and knitting that I never have time to finish.

Sketch book and camera for those ‘opportunities’.

A sleeping bag, inflatable bed and tent, just in case I need a lie down.

And a bottle of wine. (Ok. That was a joke).

Might have to get a bigger car…..

It has been suggested that I get a ‘SheWee’ for the car, the portable ‘appliance’ for ladies on the move.  Hmm. I’m not sure.  If the lorry drivers were interested in my shimmies, they’d sure as hell be FASCINATED by my SheWee….I think I’ll just keep doing my exercises.

However, I do think I may have identified a gap in the Portaloo market.  How about having someone drive up the hard shoulder with a Portaloo, stopping every so often for 20 minutes to allow the stranded motorists to form an orderly queue and relieve themselves.  For a nominal fee they would be able to ‘offload’ and return to the car and the money raised would pay for the loo roll and Sanigel.  I may investigate this idea further myself.  I am due a career change….

And why stop at Portaloos anyway?  Burger vans, maybe a French Market?  All on wheels obviously so that the owners could set up shop at the drop of a hat, when they hear of a traffic hold up somewhere.

The possibilities are endless….

Be my valentine?

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I went shopping for a Valentine’s card the other day.  Well, I was actually on my way to pay for my parking ticket after a gruelling session at the gym but I had to walk past Clintons and I decided to pop in.  I have a bit of a card fetish, I think it is fair to say.  I never buy ONE card.  I tend to buy about twenty quid’s worth…..I just love cards!  Funny cards, selected with someone in mind, for an occasion when I need to send that someone a card.  I keep them for ages until the right time to send them comes.  I often forget I bought them though and go and buy another card for said person. Therefore, I have a lot of cards stashed away….

So, anyway, on Saturday I went into Clintons.  Obviously, they were well into the swing of the Valentine promotion, with fluffy wuffy teddy bears clutching hearts, heart emblazoned mugs, heart-shaped key rings, heart-shaped boxes, heart-shaped balloons, heart-shaped EVERYTHINGS!!!

And lots and lots of cards…

Maybe I have never looked this closely before but, this year, alongside the usual Valentine cards to wives, husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends, were cards to partners (good idea I thought), cards to soul mates (hmmm, that’s not bad either), cards from the dog or cat (um, now you’re losing me), cards TO the dog, the cat, the grandparents, the grandchildren, and your teacher…..

HUH??

What’s going on?  Since when did Valentines Day expand to include anyone AND their dog??

It’s all got totally ridiculous.  I remember when I was young, it was all about the anonymous card from the secret admirer.

Now, it’s just become yet another way for the card industry to make more money…..

For the record, I will NOT be buying the dog a Valentine card.

(I hope he doesn’t get me one now, I shall feel really embarrassed)

Fuzzy Eyes

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I am having trouble focusing this morning.  I mean,literally, focusing.  Everything is a little bit blurry.   I sometimes find that my eyes take a bit longer to wake up than the rest of me but this is much worse than usual.  I have cleaned my reading glasses at least three times in an effort to clear my vision but to no avail.

I can only surmise, therefore, that the problem lies with my sight.

I have fuzzy eyes…..

Masterchef…..

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I am just in the middle of cooking a bolognaise sauce for our meal tonight.  It’s one of the few dishes I cook these days, KD being the masterchef in our house now.  

Talking of Masterchef, I love that programme.  We’ve been glued to our seats all week watching the contestants as they strive to stay in the competition.  There is something compulsive about viewing people get it wrong.  I much prefer this programme to any of the professional cook programmes that are on…..

Anyway, while I was checking on the bolognaise, I had a flash back to when my children were small.  I think my daughter would have been about 4 or 5 and my son just 2 or 3 years old.

A favourite pastime of theirs was to pull up a little chair just by the kitchen door and watch me cook dinner.  However, I wasn’t allowed to simply COOK the dinner.  I had to provide a running commentary of what I was doing, in the style of a TV chef.  I haven’t a clue what TV programme we would have been watching at the time but it clearly had an impact on my children.  Well, I say children…from what I can remember, my daughter organised the whole thing and my little toddler son just did whatever she told him to do.

It is a happy memory, me talking them through every stage of the preparation, as if I was talking to a camera.  Silly but fun.  I wonder if they remember it?  My daughter (now 29) has been a very good cook for as long as I can remember.  My son tells me he can also cook but I have no experience of that, so I have to take his word for it!!!!  I wonder if their early lessons with mum are the reason?

 

 

There’s no accounting for taste…..

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I just had to share this as it constantly amuses me to see what people have typed in their search engine to end up at my blog:

This is a list of last weeks searches (the number of times the search term was used is in brackets):

stationery  (30)

fish and chips  (12)

high heels walking (3)

snoopy picture

gym (2)

books and stationery (2)

stationery items

beholder with glasses

snoopy driving

project 365

motivation

365 project

traditional england food

office stationeries

stationary item

fish & chips

office

stationerys

cheeseaholics anonymous

fish & chips images

stationery items

images with name

italy knitting blog

i gave up smoking

I have blogged about these topics or included images in one form or another but it is still WEIRD how many stationery hunters there are out there….and ‘beholder with glasses’?  What’s that all about?  We won’t even go down the ‘high heels’ route….actually this week’s search terms are pretty tame compared with some!

Suffice to say I expect many of these searchers are mightily disappointed when they arrive at my blog!

 

Geography – boring with a capital B!

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Last week, whilst watching University Challenge – a regular event in our house – I was once again frustrated by the geography questions.  I have never heard of most of the obscure places that crop up in this quiz and it made me think about how on earth anyone would know the answers to these questions…..

When I did geography at school, it was incredibly boring.  Nothing to do with different countries, just boring, boring lessons on crop rotation.  Admittedly I stopped doing geography in the third year, when we got to choose our options, so I didn’t do it for that long. Actually, thinking back, I didn’t get an option, I was thrown out of the class for being disruptive (difficult to believe, I know).  Maybe if I had seen it through to the end I would have learned more about different places instead of how to irrigate a field (a piece of information I have never found I needed).

Anyway, I still don’t know how people come to know all this.   Those students on Uni Challenge can’t all have taken geography at A level – I mean, who would want to take geography at any level anyway, it’s so boring? – but, somehow, they know these random things about random places.   KD didn’t do geography A level and HE knows.  So why don’t I?

I am considering investing in a globe of the world that I can have by me at all times so that, in a moment of boredom, I can discover some new place I have never heard of.

Then again I could just accept that geography is not my strong point and take up something far more useful, like knitting.

I hate my car

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WARNING!  This is not going to be an inspirational, motivational post – it is a RANT so, if you want to look away, now is your chance!!

I’m just waiting while the AA man tries to find out what is wrong with my stupid car.  Again.  It seems to be one thing after another with it, always battery related but never specific….

I won’t bore you with the details, I just wanted to say that it is not the best way to start your Monday morning.  I have to admit, I kicked the car this time.  My foot seems to have come off worse than the car though…..

I have a HUGE temper when it comes to inanimate objects (and my car can be considered inanimate because it won’t go at the moment).  Computers, phones, fiddly things that break all incur my wrath if they don’t behave as they should.  I think it is because I just can’t reason with them. Or even argue.  There is nothing to be done when something stops working except try to fix it.

Or throw it.

But the car is too big to throw.  Even the kick didn’t hurt it.

So, I’m waiting while the nice AA man tries to diagnose the fault…..

On a positive note (see, I always manage to find one!), I’m sitting here on the PC in my nice, warm house with a nice, hot cup of tea, instead of my horrid cold office….

I probably need to get a new car.